


A Late Bloomer

by ElegantButler



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Max Headroom (TV)
Genre: Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Gen, wizard Bryce
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-09-09 01:22:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8870254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElegantButler/pseuds/ElegantButler
Summary: On his seventeenth birthday, Bryce Lynch discovers that he is more than he thought he was.





	1. Discovery

A Late Bloomer  
A Max Headroom/Harry Potter Crossover

 

CHAPTER ONE

 

Bryce Lynch was a very logical teenager. 

To say he was brilliant was speaking very mildly. He had been in the upper ten percent of his classmates at the Academy of Computer Sciences in Islington, and at sixteen he was the most sensible employee at Network 23.

He believed in logical and rationality. And he was very happy to be working in a field where he was able to put these things to work for his benefit. The credits given to him in order to fund his research were also a plus in his mind.

He did not believe in fairy tales. Nor was he fond of poetry or anything which he considered fictional. It was a waste of his time as far as he was concerned. The closest he’d ever come to dealing with any such thing had been when he’d been forced to deal with Paddy Ashton’s overly poetic diary. It would’ve saved them all a great deal of time, and possibly the man’s life, if Paddy had just written down “Having nightmares. Afraid of possibly dying from it. Others already have.” But instead he’d written about “night horses” and “shores of sleep”. Quite useless drivel in Bryce’s mind.

It was for these precise reasons that Bryce had never expected to discover, rather belatedly on his seventeenth birthday, that he was in fact a wizard.

Edison had insisted on throwing him a birthday party. Another frivolous thing in his opinion. But as he was the guest of honor, he had no choice but to make an appearance. Amongst other entertainments Edison had provided was a magician who spent the evening pulling a variety of items from a silk top hat.

“Nice one,” Theora said as the magician drew a balloon from the hat.

“Even I could do better than that,” Bryce muttered.

“Oh?” the magician had said, with a grin. “Let’s see, then. Show us what you’re made of. It’s your party after all.”

Edison was about to say something when Bryce reached into the hat, prepared to find it full of hidden objects.

Bryce felt nothing at first, then felt something fuzzy. He pulled his hand back, and with it came…

… a sleek and oddly colored Siamese kitten. 

It was a beautiful creature. It’s eyes were a pale blue and it was soft white with white points. 

Bryce almost dropped the kitty in surprise, but caught himself at the last moment and held it close to himself, unsure why he felt what he could only think of as some kind of kinship with the animal.

“Wow!” Edison said.

The magician picked up the fallen hat and began looking it over. He certainly hadn’t put that cat inside.

“Now where did you come from?” Bryce asked the kitten. “I know you weren’t in that hat when I first examined it.”

The kitten simply mewed as if she didn’t care about anything other than being friends and being fed.


	2. The Prankster and the Genius (part one)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur Weasley asks George to train Bryce at his joke shop.

Chapter Two: The Prankster and the Genius (part one)

George Weasley spotted his father walking through the door of the joke shop he had started with his brother before Fred’s untimely death at the Battle of Hogwarts.

“Afternoon, Dad,” he said sedately.

Arthur Weasley noticed the morose tone in his son’s voice. Even with their youngest son to help him, George hadn’t recovered from his twin’s death. Arthur doubted he ever would.

“We got notice this morning of an awakening.”

“An awakening?” George said. “You mean a muggleborn just found out?”

“Last night,” Arthur said. “He’s seventeen, so he’s too old to be trained at Hogwarts. We were hoping you could apprentice him in your shop. It would be a good and nonthreatening way for him to learn the basics.”

“Seventeen? That’s pretty old to find out. Why didn’t his accidental magic appear beforehand?”

“Son,” Arthur sighed, “I doubt we’ll ever know. But I need to know this; would you be willing to train him?”

“Sure,” George agreed. “Why don’t you bring him by tomorrow morning? Or is that too soon?”  
“Tomorrow morning, then.” Arthur agreed.

 

Bryce was sitting in the cafeteria at Network 23 with Edison and Theora. He was very quiet while the others chatted. 

“Bryce, what’s on your mind?” Edison asked.

“Taliesin,” Bryce replied.

“Your cat,” Theora guessed. “Nice name.”

“Thanks. But I still don’t know where she came from. There was no false bottom in that hat. Any scarfs I assume came from a band in the lining. But not the kitten. She’s too big for that. I just can’t explain how she came to be there.”

“I can,” Arthur Weasley told him. “But first, permit me to introduce myself. My name is Arthur Weasley. I work at the Ministry of Magic.”

“The what?” Bryce asked, cautiously. “Look, if you’re here to tell me I’m a warlock or something…”

“I doubt you’re a warlock,” Arthur assured him. “Those are very rare. Only one in several million wizards is that powerful.”

“Wizards?” Bryce rolled his eyes. “You can’t be serious. Edison, is this guy some wind-up you hired?”

“Me?” Edison shook his head. “Nope.”

Arthur picked up a napkin and tore a corner off. Holding it in his palm he tapped it with his wand.

“Wingardium leviosa,” he said quietly levitating the piece of napkin.

Bryce was suitably impressed. “So you’re telling me I’m a wizard then.”

Arthur nodded. “You’re too old to learn magic at our school. But my son, George runs a shop where he’s willing to train you up a bit. If you wish to learn.”

“I have responsibilities here,” Bryce told him.

“I’d go if I were you,” Edison told him. “And take Max. I’m sure he’ll get a kick out of watching you learn.”

Bryce nodded. Turning to Arthur he added. “Would you like to meet Max Headroom?”

Arthur smiled. “I’d love to meet your friend Max.”

Turning to the nearest TV set, Bryce called. “Max. There’s somebody I’d like you to meet.”

“Ah! Ah! Ah!” Max said as he appeared on the set. “Introductions! Making new friends! Oh the joys of life!”

“Is that a fishy life?” Arthur asked.

Bryce let out a short laugh. “Artificial life form?” he corrected, cheerfully. “Yes. He’s a computer-generated person I created based on Edison.”

“Well, we might have a problem,” Arthur admitted. “Electronics don’t usually work well in the magical world.”

“I can’t leave Max forever,” Bryce said, troubled by this news.

“You’ll be coming home in the evenings,” Arthur told him. “You’ll work a few hours a day with my son, George. Then return here when the shop closes.”

Bryce brightened at this. “I can do that.” he decided. Turning to Edison he said. “Tell Cheviot I’m taking a break for a while. He’s been after me to take one for the past two years.”

Edison nodded as Bryce stood up and followed Arthur out the door.

 

Arthur led Bryce out to his car.

“Do all wizards drive Ford Anglias?” Bryce asked as he got in and placed Taliesin on his lap.. 

“No,” Arthur told him. “But I have a large family and it’s much easier to travel like this in a group of our size than by brooms.”

“Brooms?” Bryce asked. “You really fly on brooms like in the stories?”

“That’s one of the few things muggle stories about witches and wizards actually got right.”

“What about flying carpets? Mortar and pestle like Baba Yaga?” All the stories his mother had told him as a child were flooding back. Were they only stories like he’d believed? Or were they something more?

“Flying Carpets were banned in the United Kingdom,” Arthur told him as they drove on. “They fall under the category of a muggle artifact.”

“What about this car?” Bryce asked. “Or is it simply a car?”

Arthur gave a little cough. “Working at the ministry has some advantages.” he said simply.

Bryce smiled at this. 

Arthur parked his car outside a small pub and led Bryce through.

“Mornin’ Arthur,” the bartender smiled. “Who’s your young friend?”

“Bryce Lynch,” Bryce introduced himself. As his arms were full of kitten, he could not offer his hand to shake. “Head of Research and Development at Network 23.”

“And a newly blossomed wizard,” Arthur told him. “I’m taking him to George’s shop to be trained up a little. But first, we have a couple of things to buy.”

They stepped through to the back alley where Arthur tapped his wand on the bricks, revealing the passage that led through to Diagon Alley.

“Is this some kind of transdimensional gateway?” Bryce asked him.

Arthur seemed puzzled by this question so Bryce added. “Never mind.” and followed him through.

“Amazing,” he breathed. “Simply astonishing. To think this whole other world exists. Why doesn’t everyone know about this?”

“Mostly because a lot of muggles don’t handle the knowledge too well,” Arthur explained. “They either want magical solutions for every problem, or they condemn us and in extreme cases, even go as far as torturing and executing some of us. No, we decided long ago to enact the Statute of Secrecy to protect our world. The only muggles who know of us are close friends and families of Muggleborn and the Prime Minister. And once he retires, we obliviate our existence from his memory. Ah, here we are. Gringotts. This is our bank, were we’ll be trading muggle credits for wizard money.”

“Wizards have their own money?” Bryce asked.

Arthur nodded and cheerfully explained wizarding currency to Bryce as they walked into the bank.

“Arthur Weasley,” Griphook said. “And who is this?”

“This is Bryce Lynch,” Arthur said, by way of introduction. “He’s just found out he’s a wizard and needs to set up an account and exchange credits for our money.”

“I don’t like credits,” Griphook told them, grumpily. “Can’t hold them. Can’t see them. Just a bunch of lights that tell you your worth. Give me cash any day. Well, come on, then. Let’s get this over with.”

Bryce handed his credit tubes over to Griphook, still trying to figure out just what he was looking at.

“Who was that?” he asked as Griphook went over to the exchange table.

“That’s Griphook,” Arthur told him. “One of the cleverest goblins around. And head of the bank.”

“Goblins are real, too?” Bryce asked.

“Goblins, dragons, chimera,” Arthur said. “Many of the beings, and creatures you’ve heard of in muggle fairy tales are real.”

Griphook returned to them. “A substantial amount,” he said. “We’d be happy to do business with you. Just follow me.”

 

A short time later, Bryce was walking through Diagon Alley with a pouch of wizard money in his pocket and Taliesin the kitten still in his arms.

“First place to go is the Magical Menagerie,” Arthur said. “Your familiar will be safer in a carrier. Plus you need supplies for her.”

Walking into the pet shop, Bryce was amazed at all the different animals. 

“Morning,” he said to the man at the register. “I need a carrier for my kitten.”

“I’ve got a few right over here,” the man said, cheerfully. Just put him down and let’s see which one he likes.”

Taliesin looked at several of the carriers, then mewed up at Bryce.

Bryce looked down at him. “Well? Which one do you want?”

The kitten sniffed each carrier, then shook his head.

“Would you prefer a top hat?” Bryce asked the kitten.

Taliesin mewed happily.

Several minutes later, Bryce was carrying a happy kitten along Diagon Alley in a silk top hat which he was carrying by an added chin-strap.

They stopped at Madame Malkin’s and bough Bryce a set of robes. 

“They’ll be ready within the hour,” Madame Malkin told them, cheerfully once Bryce’s measurements had been taken.

“You won’t need to stop at the potions shop,” Arthur told Bryce. “So now where to next? The book store or the wand shop?”

“Wand?” Bryce asked. “I get a wand, too?”

“You sure do,” Arthur grinned. “Let’s go to Ollivander’s first, then.”

Bryce followed Arthur to Ollivander’s shop. The two went inside and Arthur waved at the man inside.

“This is Mr. Elsworthy,” he said.

“But the shop’s name…” Bryce said, surprised that the owner of the shop did not bear the shop’s name.

“Mr. Ollivander was killed during the last Wizard War,” Mr. Elsworthy told him. “He was murdered by a dark wizard named Tom Riddle. Now, let’s find out which wand wishes to be yours.”

“The wand chooses the wizard,” Arthur explained.

Mr. Elsworthy came back with the first wand. “Seven inches, hawthorn with unicorn hair core.”

Bryce took the wand and stared at it like so many muggleborns before him.

“Wave it a bit,” Mr. Elsworthy suggested.

Bryce did so, causing a couple of books to fall over.

“Nope,” Mr. Elsworthy shook his head. He retrieved a second wand. “Ten inches, applewood with dragon heartstring.”

Bryce took it and felt a warmth fill his body as the wand sparked. 

“Excellent,” Mr. Elsworthy grinned. “And a fine wand, if I may say so.”

Bryce paid for the wand, then followed Arthur until they came to the shop that stood across the road from the bank. 

 

“The bookstore will have to wait,” Arthur apologized. “I’m afraid we’re a little behind schedule.”

Bryce looked at the shop uncertainly. “What is this place?” he asked as they walked in.

“Ah!” George exclaimed with a smile that Arthur could tell was not entirely genuine. “My new apprentice. Welcome to Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes.”


	3. The Prankster and the Genius (part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George Weasley gives Bryce Lynch a tour of the joke shop.

CHAPTER THREE: The Prankster and the Genius (Part Two)

“Have a look around,” George offered. “I just have to ring up a few customers.”

Bryce went around, examining the different joke products. He couldn’t believe the turn his life had taken. Recently at sixteen he’d been Head of Research and Development at the world’s most prominent TV network, Network 23. Now, at seventeen, he was a wand-carrying wizard working in a joke shop.

“I must’ve been injured somehow. Perhaps I fell and I’m in a coma from a bad concussion?”

“A lot of muggleborns think that when they first discover they’re wizards or witches,” George said, joining Bryce as he reached the pygmy puffs.

“What are these?” he asked as Taliesin mewed at them from his carrier.

“Pygmy puffs,” George told him. “They’re a really big seller with the ladies. Those and our love potions.”

“Love potions?” Bryce asked. “Are those really a good idea? I mean, it seems a little iffy to me.”

“They’re not permanent love potions,” George said. “And they’re just as legal as lager. But over here are our best sellers. Skiving snackboxes. Sweets to make you ill.”

“Who would want to be sick?” Bryce asked in confused horror.

“Any self-respecting prankster or student who wanted a day off from some test.”

“Or some test they didn’t study for?” Bryce offered.

“What?! Use valuable time off from class to study?! Are you related to the Grangers?”

“Who?” Bryce asked. 

“Not important,” George decided. “A girl from our school. She was nice. A little bossy, though. And very book smart.”

“Sounds like someone I would get along with.”

“She’s a little older than you, mind you,”George said. “And married to my little brother.”

“How much older?” Bryce asked.

“About nine years,” George said. “Yeah, you’d probably be good friends. Hey, Ron!”

A younger ginger, about eight years older than Bryce, joined them. “Who’s this guy?”

“Ronald Weasley, this is Bryce Lynch. Bryce Lynch… wait. Lynch? Are you related to Aidan Lynch?”

“I don’t think so,” Bryce said. “The name doesn’t sound familiar.”

“Ah,” George said. “Well, at any rate. Bryce Lynch, this is my brother Ron. He’s my best employee and husband of Hermione Weasley, nee Granger.”

“The bookworm you spoke of,” Bryce recalled.

George nodded. “Ronnie here met her in school at Hogwarts.”

“Hogwarts?” Bryce asked.

“Where you would have gone if you’d discovered you were a wizard before the age of thirteen,” George explained. “It’s a training school. Mind you, since you found out a bit late for that, I’m going to use my shop here to teach you the ropes.”

“Thank you,” Bryce looked at a bi-colored candy. “What’s this?” he asked.

“Puking pastille,” George said. “Part of our skiving snackbox. Also available individually. Eat the orange end and you vomit. The purple end stops it.”

Bryce nodded. “Can I ask you a question?” he asked.

“Besides that one?”

Bryce laughed then nodded.

“Sure, what’s on your mind?”

“Well,” Bryce said. “I’ve learned that Wizards, Witches, and Goblins are real. And also dragons. And that there are cute fuzzy creatures called pygmy puffs. But what other beings exist in this world that I wasn’t aware of?”

“Well, there’s more than one kind of dragon,” George said. “But you’d be better off hearing about them from my brother Charlie. He works with them in Romania. There are also mermaids. But don’t get too excited. They aren’t the underwater bathing beauties muggle books make them out to be. And they can be very dangerous when riled up. There are trolls. Mountain trolls are the worst. They fight better than they think, and they stink at that, too. Not to mention they stink in general.Then, of course, there are the Veela. Very beautiful and seductive female spirits who can turn quite ugly if you make them mad. And of course there are the dementors who, until recently, guarded the wizard prison Azkaban.”

“Dementors?” Bryce asked. “Do they drive you mad then?”

“Good guess,” George said. “Here, try one of these.”

Bryce ate the proffered candy and found himself sprouting feathers. “Hey! What the?” He let out a sigh of relief as he began moulting a moment later.

“Canary cream,” George laughed. “One of our best sellers.”

“They do taste pretty good. Pity you can’t make the feathers stay until you eat a cure candy. Be fun for Halloween or fancy dress parties.”

“Costume candies,” George grinned. “Splendid idea.”

“Tell me more about those demented things,” Bryce said. “I suspect you didn’t tell me everything about them.”

“Nasty creatures,” George said, making an unpleasant face. “And driving you mad from grief isn’t their worst trait. Worst of all is if you were condemned to the Dementor’s Kiss. Which meant they sucked your soul out through your mouth. You didn’t die, but it was just as bad.”

“Like a muggle lobotomy,” Bryce shuddered.

“What’s that?” George asked.

“Where they take away your ability to think for yourself or feel anything by removing a part of the frontal lobe of your brain.” Bryce explained.

“Muggles do that to each other?” George asked in horror.

“It’s hardly ever done anymore,” Bryce said, thankfully. “Hey, tell me something. If Dementors eat people’s souls, what would happen if you gave them the orange end of a puking pastille?”

“The world may never know,” George said, dramatically as he led Bryce to some of the non-food and non-creature wares that Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes had to offer.


End file.
